Batman: Arkham Chronicles
by xxcbearsfreakxx
Summary: Harley Quinn is broken down and torn after Joker's death. Batman wishes to prove to Harley that she can turn over a new leaf and help protect Gotham rather than terrorize it. But if Harley says yes, will she be accepted in the public eye? Or if she refuses, will she end up six feet under like her puddin?
1. Harley Quinn I

-Harley Quinn-

_Here lies Amadeus Arkham, the founder of the Arkham Asylum and driving force into keeping supervillains incarcerated._

With every being of my will, I read out the inscription on the gravestone with every intention to spit on the grave and dig my heel into the dirt in front of it.

Instead, I broke down, weeping.

"Why'd you take my Joker from me, Arkham? Why?" I sobbed, shaking fiercely. I couldn't bring myself to be awful with such a heavy heart.

I stayed this way for a few minutes before lying on my side in the fetal position, trying to recollect some of my own body heat. I felt a sudden chill, and my teeth chattered intensely. The wind swirled behind me. I heard the soft thud of footsteps landing and knew precisely what-or who-was behind me.

"Leave me alone, B-Man! Leave me to grieve, for God's sake!"

He cleared his throat. I still hadn't left my spot on the ground, and I refused to look at the tall, brooding figure overlooking me in pity. I knew how awful I looked. I was completely out of costume, wearing a gray trench coat and a black dress underneath. My long blonde hair was in a tangled mess, caught in my face and neck.

"I'm sorry it had to happen this way, Quinn."

Now I stood up, slapping my hand against the cold ground in anger. I now looked the Batman square in the eyes, anger contorting my face.

"Sorry? _Sorry!? _You're _sorry? _You took the love of my life away! You let him die! You are the reason my life is worse than ever! You took…"

I stopped. I was short of breath.

"…Took my puddin'. Look, Batman, I may be some dumb blonde bimbo here, but I'm not dumb enough to ignore what I know. I shouldn't blame you for what happened. But that doesn't change the fact that Mr. J's gone."

I broke into a fit of coughing, and soon had to drop to one knee. Batman put his hand on my back to steady me, but I waved him away.

"I don't need your help, Batbrain."

"Maybe not, but I need _your _help, Qui…" He paused. "I need your help, Harley."

"What in God's name could you need me for?" I asked, surprised at the attempt to use my first name over his normal use of "Quinn".

He looked at me, making perfect eye contact.

"I need you to help me protect Gotham."


	2. Batman I

-Batman-

Quinn looked at me, wide-eyed.

"Me? Protect Gotham? Don't make me laugh, they'll throw me in jail or the crazy house or whatever the heck is open right now the first chance they'll get. They don't really like me over in the city."

"Don't be so sure. The whole city hasn't been so sure of itself recently since Joke-you know what."

"Why? All they ever wanted to do was kill poor Mr. J and I. Why does this affect them?"

"Because the biggest troublemaker and most dangerous of all villains isn't..._there_, anymore….and they don't need anyone to step up and take his place. To be honest, you're their prime suspect."

She looked at me, and based on the look on her face, she still wasn't sold on my offer.

"I'm sorry, B-man. Mr. J has a legacy that needs carried on and I'm the one that intends to do it."

I sighed. Her mind was set. But I still had to try. It was my only chance.

"Cut your losses, Quinn. I don't want to sound insensitive, but he's gone. This is the chance for you to start over."

"You can leave now, B-man. I'm walking home."

She turned away and began walking. I was losing her, and I needed to find a way to stall her. I followed, and called out to her.

"But where is "home", Quinn?" I asked.

She looked at me, exasperated, but not angry. "Home is wherever my Joker is right now, Bats. Home is wherever I can lay my head and sleep for a few hours, something I haven't freaking done in four nights. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go "home now," she said, putting air-quotes around the word "home".

She turned her heel. I tried one last thing.

"If you come with me, Harley, I can provide you with living quarters, with a bed and everything. All expenses paid for you."

She turned around again, struggling to do so. If she was going anywhere, it wouldn't be on her lonesome. I could tell she could barely walk around comfortably. She stumbled, but caught herself.

"Tempting. But "riddle me this", Batman," she said, poking fun at the Riddler, who no one in Gotham was very fond of. "Why are you doing this?"

"To be honest, Harley, I honestly don't know myself. No one made me come here."

"Then leave. Let me mourn. Stay out of my life a couple of days, and I might even _consider _considering your offer."

"Fair enough. Stay out of trouble, Harley." I pulled out my grapnel gun, and attached to the rooftop of the cemetery. I flew away, leaving Harley Quinn to whatever she wanted to do.


	3. Batman II

-Batman-

I returned to my "bat cave", which was really in this case just a nicer house I purchased under Alfred. I felt it wasn't necessary to make purchase it as Bruce. Barbara Gordon, my eyes and ears better known as Oracle, was there, waiting for me.

"Where did you go, Bruce?"

I couldn't give her a straight answer. I couldn't tell anyone about my offer to Harley.

"I went out."

"Yeah, and I walked five miles today. Tell me where you really went, Bruce." Her answer was snappy, and obviously sarcasm. Barbara is confined to a wheelchair, and unfortunately wasn't walking anywhere.

"It's nothing, I promise." I did my best to keep her gaze, to try and not seem transparent. Her face told me I failed.

"You went somewhere, and did something you don't want me to know about. Tell me where you went, Bruce. Or I will find out myself."

I sighed. "I went to Arkham Cemetery. I needed to make a visit."

She eyed me suspiciously, and her hands began to fidget. "Who were you visiting?"

I looked her in the eye, and said, "Joker's grave." It was only a half-lie; I visited Arkham's grave, and Harley.

"Why?" Barbara asked.

"I needed to think."

"And that required you to travel all the way to Arkham Cemetery and stand at Joker's tombstone? Bruce, what are you hiding?" She was yelling now. "What's so secretive that you can't tell your best friend and partner-"

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK._

I hurriedly put on my mask and looked at the security cameras to see who knocked on the door. I hoped it was just Robin, or Alfred, or anybody but who it was.

"Who is it, Bruce?" Barbara asked nervously. No one knew we were headquartered here in Gotham but Robin and Alfred.

I looked down regretfully, and knew I couldn't hide what happened any longer. I walked over to the door, and suppressed the security system. When I opened the door, there stood Harley Quinn. Her face was cut and bleeding, and her arms were covered in bruises.

"You mentioned living quarters, and a bed, right? 'Cause I'm not feeling so hot right about now." Harley looked at me, then Barbara, and smiled. Then her knees buckled and her whole body went limp. She fainted, and I had to catch her so she wouldn't fall and hurt herself more. I carried her into a room with a bed and laid her there gingerly. She needed the rest.

"Barbara. I need you to stay in that room and make sure Quinn lives through the night."

"Bruce, what is-"

"Just _do it_, Barbara. Please. I'll explain in the morning."

Barbara glared at me, and then wheeled herself into Harley's new room. I sighed, took off my mask, and sat down. I needed to rest, too.


End file.
